


Killing Me Softly

by KyloTrashForever



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Accessory Kink, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Defiling The Library, Elbow Patches and Tweed Apparently Do It For Me, F/M, Fidgety Ben, Madam Pince Would Not Approve, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rey Might Be A Serial Killer, Shake The Bookshelves, She Calls Him Patches, Tattooed Rey, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, librarian Ben, snarky rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 13:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever
Summary: ForweeksRey has been coming into Ben’s library and teasing him mercilessly. His clothes, the way he talks, his mannerisms... nothing is safe to her taunts. Despite it all, he can’t help but notice just how nicely her clothes seem to fit her, or the way she smiles when she’s laying into him... or thatweirdobsession she seems to have with serial killers? Just who is this woman?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So okay, it’s official. I have an odd accessory kink. I woke up from a dream in the middle of the night about a Ben in elbow patches and tweed and I’ll be damned if it didn’t get me all kinds of flustered. Then I needed him to be a librarian... then I needed him to be an adorable fidgety mess. What’s wrong with me?

 

* * *

_She’s here again._

Ben shuffles the index cards he’s laid out on the counter, training his eyes to the old oak surface. He has been trying a little too desperately all morning not to glance across the sitting area to where she was perched in one of the old metal chairs at one of the reading tables. More than once he’s had to disguise a look with a readjustment of his tie, a fiddling of the collar of his blazer.  

Ben has been the head librarian at Mary Willis Library for the last four years. He’d moved to Washington, GA from Atlanta when he’d been offered the position by an old colleague of his father’s. He’d just completed his masters degree in library science, and had been thrilled to have been offered a head position just out of the gate.

The library is somewhat of a monument in this part of Georgia, being the first free public library in the entire state. It has stood since 1889 and Ben loves the rich history that can be seen in every nook and corner of the place.

She’s been here several times over the last few weeks, seeming out of place in the old library with her cut off t-shirts and her tattoos. More than once he’s cast a surreptitious glance over his glasses to the colorful sunrise scene imprinted on the skin of her upper arm. It bleeds down from over her shoulder and ends at the elbow, a bright sun casting an aura of pink and gold across a glassy ocean.

He has to admit it’s beautiful. 

Speaking of beautiful— her face is a distraction to his normally quiet existence. Her delicate features should be overpowered by the cherry-red lipstick she seems to be keen on, but instead it makes her soft mouth even more inviting. Her golden skin is smattered with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her eyes... her eyes are wide, _guileless—_ a bright hazel that reminds him of the sun filtering through the tree line at summer time.

Her eyes are currently ficed pointedly on the pages of the book she’s chosen, and Ben can just make out the cover. He frowns when he reads  _Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders._

An odd choice for someone to be casually reading during the middle of the day in a public place. He shakes his head, returning his focus back to his cataloguing. 

She rises then, tucking the book under her arm as she seemingly reaches the decision to take it home. She stretches, the action causing her small shirt to inch up further, and Ben sees the glint of a belly button piercing at her midriff. He swallows hard, suddenly needing to let loose a few of the buttons of his collared shirt.

She strolls across the short space, each step causing her short, layered haircut to bounce prettily. Lord knows he’s thought about running his hands through it. Yes, she really is the perfect example of woman.

All except for...

“Hey there, Patches. You still standing guard over these hallowed halls? I tried _really_  hard not to scuff your precious tables this time.” 

...that mouth. 

Ben huffs. Yes, that. She is  _exasperating_. Their first meeting had been... less than cordial. He thinks back to the day he’d come out from the behind the stacks to put away books and found her posted up at one of the tables, her white Doc Martin’s propped up on the varnished surface of the antique reading table.

He had almost had an aneurism. 

“ _Excuse me, these tables have held up for over fifty years. Kindly remove your feet from them if you will_.” 

She’d looked up at him with an almost bemused expression, raising an eyebrow and narrowing her eyes just so. “ _You know what else has held up for over fifty years? That jacket. Seriously man, are those elbow patches_?”

Her taunts still smarted. He thinks his blazers make him look distinguished. She’s taken to calling him by that ridiculous nickname in the weeks that followed, and it annoys him to no end every time he hears it. She is looking at him now with a simpering smile, plopping the book onto the counter as she waits for a reply.

“Lovely as always to see you. Is this all you’ll be needing today?” he asked evenly, his traitorous eyes dipping down to the gap of her shirt where’d she’d cut a jagged vee into the material, revealing the shadow between her breasts. 

“You talk mighty fine there, guy,” she grinned. “You practicing to be Miss Georgia this year?”  

He lets out a disgruntled sigh. “Hysterical.”

She chuckles softly, handing him her library card so he can log the book into the system. This is the first book she’s actually _checked_ _out—_ normally she just browses for a while before leaving empty handed.

He feels his heart beat just a tad faster than it should when he reads the name printed on the card. _Rey Sole_. Hmm. It suits her somehow. He quickly logs the entry into the system, stamping the index card in the back and handing the book over to her. 

She tasked it, tucking it back under her arm once more and then dipping into an overly-dramatized mock bow. “Many thanks, oh keeper of the books.” 

Damn that impossible woman.

* * *

It is three days before he sees her again. She strides in mid-afternoon, dropping her sinister reading choice into the return bin and ambling past the counter towards the stacks. He watches her go—the tight cutoff shorts hugging her backside in an almost sinful way.

Hips shouldn’t move like that— it should be _criminal_.

He runs a hand through his dark locks, pushing them out of his eyes so that they don’t hang over the lenses of his glasses. He really needs a cut— but the woman who cuts his hair always does it just a little too short for his liking. He hates waiting the small period of time it takes for it to grow back out and cover his ears that have always been too large for his face. 

Rey disappears down a clustered section near the back that Ben recognized as the True Crime section. Odd. More serial killer biographies? He wonders idly if Rey has a weird obsession. He grabs the pile of books needing to be put away from the return bin, carrying them out across the carpeted floor to return them to their appropriate resting places. 

He tucks the book Rey has just brought back in at the bottom of his pile, not wanting to seem _too_  eager to get to the section she is currently in. Not that he _is_  eager. No, he is just doing his job. It isn't anything to him if he knows she is nearby. His pile dwindles until the only book in his hand is hers, and he straightens his tie in a nervous manner before turning the corner to the True Crime section. 

She is sitting on the window sill on the other side of the shelves, her back pressed against the old stained glass as she reads through the excerpt on the back of a large book. Normally he would scold someone for getting too close to the antique windows, but all he can seem to focus on is the lip that she holds between her teeth. The pearly whites leave a little indent in the soft flesh, and for a moment his mind wanders to what her mouth might look like slightly parted as she gasps beneath him. 

“Hey Patches, come to chase me away from the windows? You’re not hiding a broom somewhere to shoo me with are you? I haven’t been able to hammer down just what kind of stick is wedged up your ass.”  

Despite her taunts her face lites up in a wide grin, the action almost enough to ebb the aggravation of having been caught staring at her.

He frowns, shaking his head as he stomps over to the shelf across from her to return her book to its place. “I’m just doing my job.”

“What a fine job you’re doing too,” she croons innocently. 

He turns, eyeing her over his glasses and taking in her amused expression. His eyes dip to the tight cotton of her tank top, the emblem to some band rising and falling with every breath she takes. He flicks his eyes back up to hers, and she is there waiting with a look that says she’s caught his wandering gaze.

He huffs, making to return to the safety of his counter. “Don’t smudge my windows.”

She saunters up to the counter almost an hour later (not that he was counting), and lays a heavy book down to check out. Ben picks it up, skimming the cover and giving her a quizzical expression. 

“ _The Stranger Inside Me_?” He wrinkles his nose. “Bundy this time? That’s an odd hobby you have there.”

She shrugs. “Just getting tips.”

He frowns, taking in her sly smile. “Well... okay then.”

Her tongue darts out to wet the cherry-red of her lips, and his eyes drop there against his will. That flash of pink against such a deep scarlet has him in an uncomfortable need to adjust himself. He coughs slightly, turning his attention instead to his computer screen and checking out her book to her.

“So, Patches. What do you do for fun?” Her eyes crinkle as she cocks her head. “Skulk around museums and make sure no one touches anything?” 

The turn of her head exposes more of the smooth column of her throat, and he is momentarily distracted by the mental image of his tongue running over the tan skin there. She leans down to meet his eyes, snapping his attention back to the present as he feels the tips of his ears burn. 

“I watch a lot of the History channel.” His voice comes out just a little _too_  breathlessly. 

She giggles, the sound wrapping around him and making his cock twitch. “Why does that not surprise me?”

He shrugs. “I can’t begin to comment on what does or doesn’t surprise you, Rey.”

His ears burn further when he realizes he’s addressed her by name, knowing the only reason he knows it is from her library card. 

“I kind of like the way you say my name,” she hums in amusement. “You sound like a real Southern gentleman.”

He casts a wary look her way, not knowing if she is offering him an _actual_ compliment or teasing him again. He quickly finishes his work of checking out the book to her, sliding it across the counter into her waiting hands. She takes it from him, her fingers skirting over his. He visibly startles, his hand going to the knot of his tie to fumble with it. 

The corner of her mouth turns up, and she takes the book to make for the exit around the counter. She stops just at the door, turning slightly.

“Have a nice day, Ben,” she offers sweetly before she strides out the door.

His heart pulses wildly in his chest, a strange elation that she had known his name. He’s never given it to her. It isn’t until several seconds later that he realizes he is wearing a damned name tag. He glances at the plastic tag now, shaking his head at himself.

Still, he thinks to himself that he kind of likes the way she says his name too.

* * *

He doesn’t see her again until a week later.

She stumbles in from a heavy summer rain, clutching a newspaper over her head. The fabric of her crop top clings tantalizingly to her breasts, soaked through by the downpour outside. He swallows heavily as he watches her ring her sodden hair on the rug, droplets of water running down her chest and into the  valley between her breasts. 

She glanced up at him, smirking. “You going to get on to me for getting your cock wet?”

He feels his pants tighten embarrassingly. “W-what?” 

She gives him a curious look. “I said— are you going to get on to me for getting your rug wet?”

Of course. _Of_ _course_ that’s what she’d said. What in the world is wrong with him?

She wipes her worn Converse on the rug next, trying to save the carpet from any wet prints. Satisfied, she pulls her book from the plastic bag she’d safely tucked it into and leaves it inthe return bin. 

“If you need me Patches,” she says with a wink. “You know where I’ll be.”

Patches again, then.

He watches her slink off towards the same section she always goes to— his chest as tight as his pants as he eyes the wet fabric clinging to her. He doesn’t even care that she is dripping slightly on the carpet.

He pulls at his tie nervously— his collar warm. 

It is not long after that she returns out from behind the stacks, carrying a small pile of books and dropping them onto a reading table before taking a seat behind it. She cracks one open, leaning back into the seat and crossing her legs at the ankle. Her hair has begun to dry, no longer clinging to her temples but instead floating around her face like a gauzy halo. 

She glances up then, meeting his eyes and catching him red-handed. He quickly turns to his computer, feeling flustered.

_Damn_ _it_.

He types furiously away at his keyboard, feeling his ears heat, and not even noticing the soft smile that curls at her mouth as she went goes to her book.

It takes her over an hour to peruse her small stack of options, but eventually she comes to the counter as has become her custom, dropping her choice onto the counter.

He picks it up, giving her an exasperated look when he eyes the title. “ _The Night Stalker_?” He shakes his head. “Ramirez... I’m starting to think _you_ may secretly be a serial killer.”

She winks, the action causing his tie to seem too tight. His fingers itch to adjust it. She reaches between them, grabbing the knot and cinching it up for him. His eyes widen as if she’s just palmed him through his pants instead of adjusted his tie. 

“It was crooked.” She shrugs. “Tell me, how old are you, Patches?”

He clears his throat. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just trying to decide if you’re a time traveler,” she smirks. “This jacket is definitely from the eighteenth century.” 

He scowls. He should have known. “Impossible woman.”

She laughs, he is starting to think it may be his new favorite sound. “No seriously,” she presses. “I’m curious.”

He eyes her warily. “Twenty-nine.”

“Not too bad.” She nods her head thoughtfully. 

He gives her a curious look, not catching her meaning.

“Just trying to decide if you’re too old for me.”

He feels his mouth drop open, almost certain it hits the counter with the force that it unhinges from his jaw. She gives him a coy smile, taking the book he’s just finished logging out of his hands and walking right past him to the exit. He can only stare after her, his eyes wide and mouth still parted as she strides out the door without a backwards glance.

His heart doesn’t stop racing till well after he’s gone home.

* * *

The next _several_  days pass in a dizzying slowness.

Ben’s eyes stay almost permanently glued to the door, checking it incessantly even though there is never a ring of the overhead bell. He has been reduced to a fidgeting mess, constantly tugging at the knot of his tie or the lapel of his blazer. Ever since she’d left that day he’s been... _uncomfortable_.

That is the only way to describe it.

His skin itches and his stomach remains in a permanent knot. He feels like he is holding a breath that he can't seem to release. 

He’s almost given up on her by the fifth day— having already attempted to stalk her Facebook profile but finding it to be private. No help there. He knows he could access her phone number in the library’s records... but that just seems creepy.

He sighs, letting his head fall to the counter. It is late in the day— even nearing closing time. A ding of a bell rings at the door then, and he can't even find the energy to look up and greet them.

It isn't until he hears a sharp rap of knuckles against the wood surface that he peeks up through his hair.  

“You thinking about what life would be like in a t-shirt?”

He has to bite back a grin. She leans over the counter, book in hand and eyes glinting with humor.

“Hardly,” he hmphs, raising to sit up straighter on his stool. “Back for more tips on mass murder?”

She shrugs. “See, the trick is— you have to plan it all out _just_ right.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “I’m sure.”

She slides the book she’s brought back his way, the loose material of her slouchy top falling softly over her shoulder and framing her tattoo. His eyes follow the movement, swallowing lightly. She bites her lip softly, trying not to laugh at his hopelessness.

His gaze flick helplessly then to to the place where her teeth meet her mouth, and he notices she’s forgone her staple red lipstick. The soft pink of her lips is just her own now, and he can't find himself disappointed. He clears his throat, tugging at the sleeves of his blazer and taking the book from the counter. 

She lets her hands slide from the top, saying no more as she flounces off. He watches her hungrily as she goes, swearing that she is putting more sway in her hips. Surely he is imagining it.

But still... 

He tries to busy himself with paperwork. He really does, but his eyes keep falling to the section of books where he knows she is milling about. More than once he thinks about finding a reason to walk past it— each time finding a reason why he shouldn’t.

Maybe she flirts with everyone like that. Maybe she laughed at him when she left here.

What would a girl like that want with someone like him anyway? He shakes his head softly, suddenly annoyed with his behavior. He doesn’t get flustered like this. He trains his eyes back to the computer, finishing up the check-ins that need to be logged. 

When he is finished, he stretches, his back stiff from stooping over the keyboard for so long. Speaking of...

He glances at the clock, finding it is well past closing time. The library looks completely empty— and he frowns when he realizes he must have missed Rey walk out. He can’t help the twinge of disappointment that courses through him when he thinks about how she hadn’t even said anything as she’d left— but he quickly brushes it away. 

Grabbing the pile he’s just checked in, he tucks them under his arm before walking around the counter to lock the door. With it done, he takes the small stack and sets about putting them away.

When he has only one book left a short while after, he runs a hand over the cover, realizing it is the one Rey had brought back that day. He sighs heavily, hating the fluttery feeling in his chest that arides when he thinks of her face.

He strides through the aisles of shelves, eyes scanning the tags on the end as he seeks the correct one to return the book. He spots it finally in the corner of Rey’s favorite section, near the back wall. Rounding the corner— he feels the the air leave his lungs in a sharp rush as he sees what is waiting for him. 

“Hey Patches,” Rey grins wickedly, perched against a bookshelf. “Took you long enough.” 

Damn it all. She really _is_  going to murder him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  So either Ben dies in the next chapter or I wrote basically 3000 words of library smut. I guess we’ll see.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moodboard gifted to me by the lovely [Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite/pseuds/Azuwrite)! <3

* * *

“W-what are you still doing here?” Ben sputters. 

She shrugs. “Waiting for you.”

“People—” He swallows nervously, taking a step back from her. “People know I’m here.”

She gives him a confused look before realization seems to dawn on her. She bursts out laughing, doubling over at the waist and coming up gasping for air. She wipes at her eyes then, actual tears having formed there from the force of her humor.    


“I’m not here to  _ murder _ you, idiot.”    


He straightens, feeling slightly foolish but still wary. “You’re not?”

“ _ Ben _ ,” she gasps between laughs. “I’m getting my degree in criminology. The books are for my dissertation.”

He can’t help but let out a relieved sigh, a small part of him having  _ actually _ been a little frightened when he’d found her waiting here.   


She shakes her head. “You’re kind of adorable, you know that?”   


His fingers skirt over the fabric of his tie— toying with the edge as he feels his face flame. “If you aren’t here to murder me, then what are you here for?”

She crosses the small space separating them, coming to rest directly in front of him and letting her hand come up to wrap his tie around her fist.    


“ _ This _ .”     


He is surprised at first— his eyes flying wide as her soft mouth moves over his, her teeth moving to nibble at his bottom lip and causing him to groan. His eyes drift closed, his mouth parting to allow her tongue to slip inside. He drops the book he is holding, letting it fall  to the floor with a soft thud. His hands move to encircle her waist, enjoying the way they can almost fit all the way around.    


He breaks away then suddenly, breathing hard. He stares down into her hooded eyes— her mouth soft and wet and  _ begging _ for him to kiss her again. 

He swallows nervously, disbelief flooding him. “ _ Why _ ?”   


She lifts one shoulder slightly, the corner of her mouth turning up. “You’ve been watching me... and I’ve been watching you.”   


“I haven’t— I wasn’t—”

She grins wickedly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Why do you think I dress this way? want you to look.”   


He feels his blood rushing down from his brain to flood his cock. She reaches up, pulling off his glasses tentatively.   


“Can you see without these?”    


“I’m near sighted— so yes, for a little ways.” 

“Don’t worry,” she tells him, tucking the glasses into the breast pocket of his blazer. “We’ll be  _ real _ close.”

She holds his gaze for several moments, studying him. “You have really pretty eyes, you know that? I thought they were just brown... but there are flecks of gold in there.”

“Th-thank you,” he stammers. “You— you have nice eyes, too.” 

_ You have nice eyes, too? _

How eloquent. He should have told her they reminded him of spring and sunshine and warm tea, but no. Words seem to be a foreign concept to him right now.   


He swallows around the lump in his throat, his heart racing as he watches her move to loosen his tie. 

“Let’s see what you’ve got under all this tweed, Patches.”    


She makes quick work of the Windsor knot at his collar, deftly untying it and pulling the slack as it falls open to loose it from his neck. She peeks up at him through her lashes as she moves to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he fears she’ll be able to hear the hammering of his heart. 

He is pressed against the bookshelf, his hands moving to grip the wood behind him for fear he will float away. She undoes a button, then another— working her way down before untucking the shirt from his pants so that it falls open.    


Rey slides her hands under the draped fabric, running them over Ben’s chest and down his abdomen. 

“You’ve been holding out on me.”    


She pushes the fabric to the side, revealing more of his firm chest. She leans in, pressing her mouth just over his heart and leaving a soft kiss there. Running her lips over his skin, she doesn’t stop her lazy path across his chest until she finds a nipple. She laves over it with her tongue before pulling it between her teeth, biting it softly. 

Ben jerks at the contact, letting out a soft moan. Her hands are roving everywhere they can reach, smoothing over the hard muscle of his abdomen and sliding around to run up the expanse of his broad back under his shirt. He watches with wide eyes, her tan skin a stark contrast to his pale complexion. 

It is  _ maddening _ .    


When she reaches for his belt buckle, he actually  _ whimpers _ — the sound falling between them and causing her to grin widely. She pulls the leather through the loops of his pants, holding it to the side before letting it clink to the floor.    


“Are you sure about this?” he asks, hating himself for being so noble. “We barely know each other.”   


She looks contemplative for a moment. “What’s your last name?”   


“Solo.”    


“Mm, it’s so close to mine...” she remarks amusedly.

_ It would be such an easy transition.  _

He automatically waves away that ridiculous notion. He barely knows Rey. Even if she  _ is _ the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and is currently driving him insane.    


She shrugs. “I think I know enough.”   


“I just mean—” he starts, but she cuts him off, her expression determined.   


“Solo. Twenty-nine. History Channel. Librarian. Elbow patches. Guardian of old tables,” she laughs softly. “Plenty of information.”   


“That’s hardly enough information to warrant this.”    


“You don’t want me?”    


He watches her pull her lip between her teeth, seeming nervous suddenly. She is always so  _ confident _ that this sudden vulnerability kicks his want for her into overdrive. Of  _ course _ he wants her. He has for  _ weeks _ if he is being honest with himself.   


He brings his hands to rest under her jaw, pulling her in to press his mouth to hers. She tastes like strawberries— and he lets it fill him up, her flavor exploding in his mouth as his tongue finds hers. Rey closes her eyes, sighing softly into his mouth as her hands go to his hips— her nails digging slightly into the skin there as she attempts to pull him closer.    


Ben brings his hands between him— needing to touch her. He palms her breasts through the thin material of her shirt, feeling her pert nipples straining against the material of the lace he can feel underneath. He rolls one between his fingers, eliciting a soft moan from Rey that he captures with his mouth. 

Her hands graze downwards, coming to rest over his zipper as she palms his now-straining erection through the fabric of his pants. He jerks, growling low in his throat as he thrusts deeper into her hands. She grips him, running her fingers along the outline of his cock with just the right amount of pressure to have his abdomen clenching.    


Ben’s hands leave her jaw, brushing down her shoulders and skimming the length of her until he finds her hips. He grips them, sliding over her ass to lift her into him. She comes easily, her tiny frame melding to his as her legs come around his waist. The force of it shakes the shelf he is leaned against, and several books fall from their place to rain down around them. 

Ben can’t find the will to care— Rey’s hands thrusting into his hair and gripping it at the roots. Her core is wedged tightly against his rigid cock— and she grinds against him, the fabric between them not enough to staunch the heat he feels there. He grips her ass tight, pulling her closer to him as his tongue sweeps through her mouth— trying to drink her in.    


Her tiny mewls sound in the empty space, the lewd sounds filling his ears and making it hard to focus. All he can hear is  _ Rey _ , all he can feel was  _ Rey _ . 

He moves, crossing the aisle and slamming her into the opposite shelf, more books raining down and scattering across the floor. He lets her legs fall again to the floor, moving to shirk off his jacket and relieve himself from the fire that has spread across his skin.   


She halts him, gripping the lapel and pulling it tightly. 

“Leave it on.”  His mouth parts slightly in disbelief, and she grins wickedly. “What can I say? I guess tweed is my thing.”   


He pounces, suddenly needing to touch her,  _ feel _ her everywhere. He reaches for the button of her shorts, his eyes flicking to hers in question and she nods softly, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. He continues, unfastening the button and wrenching the fabric apart to slide it down over her hips.    


“Oh, God,” he groans. 

She has another tattoo that starts just below the hem of her shorts, stemming across the curve of her hip and down her upper thigh— a collage of wildflowers that swirls across her tan skin. Ben wants to taste it, and he gives in to the urge— dropping to his knees and running his tongue over the colors to lavish the skin there as he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. He wants it to be there tomorrow— for her to remember he’s been here.    


His fingers skim under the edge of the gauzy blue thong she is wearing, pulling it down her legs to fall to the floor. He gulps visibly at the sight of her, her cunt prettier than he could have ever imagined. A tiny patch of neat curls rests just over her slit, and he runs a finger between her folds to gather the wetness that has pooled there. He is floored by how turned on she is— amazed that  _ he did this _ . He brings the slick digit to his mouth and sucks it clean— closing his eyes and humming low in his chest.    


When he glances up at her, she is wide eyed— her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watches him taste her. Bringing his attention back to what is in front of him, he presses his nose against her center, running it through her curls and breathing her in. She whimpers softly when his nose passes over her sensitive clit, and he does it again for good measure just to hear her again. He watches her head fall back, a soft sigh escaping her.   


“Ben.” His name leaves her lips like a plea, and hearing it lights him up like fresh kindling. 

He swipes his tongue up the length of her slit, returning down to spear her opening and curling it in a way that makes her shake. He drags it upwards once more, parting her folds with his wide tongue and laving over the swollen bud of her clit. She bucks into his face, and he reaches to steady her with a hand on her hip. He pulls her leg over his shoulder, letting it rest there so that she is parted to him more than before. He can see  _ everything _ at this angle.

She is so damned pretty— soft, pink, and  _ so wet  _ for him.    
He wraps his lips around her clit, his teeth brushing against it gently before soothing it with his tongue. He pulls at it with his lips, sucking at it with more force as he simultaneously presses his tongue to it rapidly as if ringing a bell. Rey writhes above him, thrusting against his face as she seeks more contact— more sensation. 

He brings a hand between them, sliding a finger into her tight heat and grinding it inside her before adding a second. He stretches her, scissoring his fingers inside as she bites back a moan, all the while never relenting his assault on her throbbing clit. He feels her begin to spasm above him, hips bowing frantically as she tries to get closer, tries to move away— tries to do  _ anything _ to increase the pressure he is building.    


Her breath comes out in a series of gasps, her back bowing from the shelf as she grinds her cunt into his face, quivering as her orgasm takes hold. He continues to lap at her clit, stroking it viciously with his tongue again and  _ again _ as he drinks in her orgasm. 

It is only when she is tugging at his hair— forcibly trying to pull him upwards— does he relent. He rises from the floor, sliding up her body as she pulls him in for a toe-curling kiss. He can still taste her on his tongue— and her flavor intermingles between them to make his head spin. 

Ben feels her hands fumble at the button of his slacks, quickly undoing them to pull at his fly. His cock can easily be seen outlined in the tight fabric of his briefs, and she palms it greedily, running her hand up his length.    


“You’ve  _ really _ been holding out on me, Patches.”     


Ben groans at her touch, his cock twitching heavily under her fingers as she traces the outline of him. He kicks off his shoes, letting his slacks fall to the floor as he steps out of them. He then sweeps an arm under Rey, pulling her to his chest to swiftly carry her out from the stacks and into the reading area. He gently lays her out across one of the tables, pulling her to the edge as he roughly rids himself of his underwear.    


Rey’s eyes widen at his considerable length, his cock jutting heavily between them and leaking at the tip. She reaches for it, sliding her hands over the head as a thumb smears the pre-cum gathered there. He thrusts into her hand, seeking a warmth he knows he can only find between her legs.    


“Rey I— I don’t have a—” He moans as her hand begins to twist around the thick head.

“Implant,” she informs breathily. “I have one. I’m clean— are you?”   


He nods furiously. “Clean. I’m so clean— so  _ goddamned _ clean.”

She smiles softly, pulling him in as he lines up at her entrance.    


“ _ Wait _ ,” she gasps suddenly, causing him to freeze and look down at her with a startled expression. “ _ Your tables _ . They’ve stood for fifty  _ years _ . Are you sure we should—”

Ben doesn’t allow her to finish, sliding into her and effectively shutting her up. “Impossible woman,” he mutters as he leans over her. His face falls into her hair and he breathes deep, feeling her slick walls stretch around him as he presses deeper into her core.    


Rey lets out a tiny gasp, her hands clawing at his back as he bottoms out. He groans into her hair, the feeling of her tight core wrapped around him like a glove too much to handle. He feels every slick ridge against his cock, squeezing him like a fist. 

Ben hears her breath coming out in sharp huffs against his ear, her hips squirming against him as she silently begs him to move. He rears back, her inner walls pulling at him as he retreats to the head. When he pushes back in with more force, he feels a shiver run down his spine.   


“Is this what you wanted?” he rasps, pulling back out to slam into her again. “When you were teasing me?”   


Rey whimpers beneath him, her mouth falling open and her eyes shut tight.    


“Did you like driving me crazy?” He grinds his hips to hers before pounding back into her. “Knowing I couldn’t stop watching you?”   


“Yes,” she groans. “This is exactly what I wanted.”   


He quickens his pace, snapping his hips up into her furiously as he holds on to waist tightly. Her hands are draped above her, gripping the edge of the table to steady her jolting body as Ben delivers thrust after thrust.    


Needing to see more of her, he grabs at the hem of her shirt, bunching it up around her neck before jerking down the cups of her bra to free a nipple. He leans, wrapping his lips around it and sucking roughly as he rolls his tongue around the taut bud. Rey moans loudly, the sound enveloping him like a blanket and making his cock swell even further.   


“ _ Ben _ ,” she gasps. “I’m going to—”   


“ _ Come _ , Rey,” he grinds out, propping up on his palms to look down at her. “Come on my cock.”   


“Oh,  _ God _ .” 

Her back bows from the table, her thighs shaking around his hips as her heels dig firmly into the muscles of his ass. Her cunt spasms wildly, cinching around his already aching cock. He lets out a grunt— his thrusts becoming erratic as he struggles to keep up a steady pace— the white-hot pressure building in his spine as he feels himself on the edge of letting go.    


When he comes, the force of it doubles him over, a loud cry escaping his mouth as he peppers her skin with kisses as far as he can reach. He thrusts shallowly into her as he rides out the remnants of his orgasm, his cock twitching heavily inside her as he fills her.   


Rey’s hands have found their way into his hair— and she presses warm kisses to his temple as the pair of them come down from their collective high. When Ben finally stills, he leans up, looking Rey in the eyes as she smiles warmly at him.    


Her face breaks out in a wide grin. “Worth defiling the tables?”    


He chuckles softly. “Definitely.”   


“I promise not to tell the Master Library Committee of your transgression.”

Ben pulls out of her, causing both of them to shudder slightly. “Impossible woman.”   


“I think you might like it.”

He gestures at their compromising position. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

She giggles softly, sliding off the table and traipsing across the floor to go after her clothes. He watches her go, unable to take his eyes off her perfect ass peeking out from under her shirt. When she disappears around a shelf, he finally reaches for his underwear to slide them back on. She returns dressed once again, holding the rest of his clothes. Ben steps into his pants, fastening them as Rey redoes the buttons of his shirt.    


Once his shirt is in order, he tucks it back into the hem of his pants and sets to work redoing his belt and tie. Rey watches quietly, leaning against the reading table with a soft smile on her face.    


“Don’t forget these.” She steps close to pull his glasses from his jacket pocket. She slides them onto his face, grinning up at him before pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.    


“Rey, can I— can I take you on a real date?” Ben asks nervously. “I know I’m a little older than you... and I’m stuffy and maybe just a little boring, but I—”

She shushes him, putting her fingers to his mouth to cease his babbling. “How about you buy me dinner? Or we could get takeout and watch the History Channel at your place?”    


He grins widely at her, his chest feeling full. “I’d like that.”

“Come on then,” she says brightly, tugging on his hand to pull him towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

They had just walked through the doors of the library when she turns, grinning wickedly. “Oh and don’t worry,” she says coyly. “I promise not to murder you.”

Ben shakes his head, knowing he is in for a world of trouble with her and not even caring a little bit. He lets out a laugh, his eyes finding the ceiling in mock prayer. “Impossible woman.” He locks the library doors behind him and reaches out to wind his fingers with hers. “Feel free to try. You’ll be the one ruined and limp in my bed in the morning.”

Rey hums in appreciation, and he feels his cock twitch, already eager to prove his point. 

She offers him a wink. “You’re on, Patches.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way. Carry on with your normally scheduled kinks.  
> Thanks for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kylotrashforever)!  
> I made a [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/KTF_Reylo), come follow me!


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